


Maybe Someday

by mmaybetomorroww



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angry Clarke, Angst, Clarke Has Nightmares, Clarke's POV, Clexa, Commander Lexa, F/F, I Just Pretend That Never Happens, Lots of time jumps, Love Story, Not Much Actual Plot, Reflection, Season 2 & 3, canonverse, lexa doesn't die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:26:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7425547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmaybetomorroww/pseuds/mmaybetomorroww
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"I came to say goodbye, but I kiss you instead. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Kissing you is a lot better than any words I could’ve said anyway. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Its overwhelming, to say the least. </em>
</p>
<p> <em>You’re crying. Im crying. And I would laugh at how lame we are, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m kissing you, and its the best damn thing i’ve done in 3 months."</em></p>
<p> OR</p>
<p>Clarke's journey starting from her first kiss with Lexa, to her first time with Lexa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Someday

**Author's Note:**

> Something a little different, but i've been wanting to write for a while now. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

When you kissed me, I wasn’t ready. 

I told you _“Not yet,”_ and you responded with a sad, yet hopeful smile gracing those lips that had just touched mine. 

After that we were interrupted. Thrown back into this world that surrounds us. This world that suffocates us. 

You were Heda, and I was the Sky Princess, and we had a lot of responsibilities, none of them to each other. 

 

A little while after that, you asked me to go with you to your capital. That same damn hopeful smile was on your face, with just a twinge of doubt in your eyes, and I could tell you were nervous. Here we stood on a battlefield, and you were nervous to ask me to come home with you. 

I was scared, and unaware of what this night might hold. The future wasn’t a place I could think of, not right now. So I reassured you in a different way. I made no promises, but I made no declines either. 

 

As we were being shot at, hiding behind a wall made of metal just for us, mere moments after our hands were holding, and are eyes were shining with determination and bravery as we pressed down on the button that was supposed to change our fate, you looked at me with something resembling fear, and told me to stay put as you rushed out to go be Heda. 

Because you had a responsibility to your people, not me. 

 

The shooting stopped, and my heart leapt. The excitement didn’t last long though, not after I saw you. 

You were alive, and that made me happy, but I could read your face better than anyone else, and I knew it wasn’t okay. 

I saw the pained expression written on your face, even as your voice tried to hide it. You told me you were sorry, and I couldn’t say a word. 

It wasn’t until later I wish I had. 

You forced me to go into that mountain alone. You sentenced me to my own death, as you walked away freely with all your people by your side. You kissed me, and then left me, and my heart hurt at just the thought of it. 

I killed all those people, because I had no other choice, and I blamed you for every single one of their deaths, because I couldn’t bare to blame myself. 

I spent 3 months hating you. Hating me. 3 months waking up shaking and crying and _screaming_ because all I could hear were _their_ screams. 

 

You sent someone after me, and I thought like hell to protect myself. But I didn’t stand a chance, and you knew that. You wouldn’t dare send someone incapable of the job. I was much too important to you. 

Seeing you again brought me back to that night spent on the mountain. 

Your blood soaked face, now perfectly clean, your sad eyes, now perfectly guarded, your words so cold, now filled with sorrow. 

As I watched you all I saw was red. Growing hotter, and hotter, until you uttered the words that you needed me, and I lost all sight completely. 

You didn’t get to need me. 

Not when you left after I needed _you._

 

I spend a week, refusing to let you anywhere near me. 

I’ve spent 3 months building up walls, and protecting my heart, I’ll be damned if I let you back in. 

The nightmares don’t get any better. Even here, here in your beautiful capital, just as you promised. Even in soft furs, and silky nightgowns, I can’t sleep because the minute my eyelids close all I see is you standing there, looking at me like you’re _sorry_ and telling me you made this choice with your head and not your heart and that leaves me thinking about just what your heart was telling you that night. 

 

After a week of avoidance and stubbornness, you give up, entering my room without permission, and as I watch you stride in with a clear purpose and a heavy look upon your face, I’m angry all over again, because quite frankly, _how dare you._

We argue, you leave, and I go back out onto the balcony, watching the streets with curiosity as I think about how much I could’ve loved you. 

 

Roan comes to me, offering me a deal. A deal I thought I wanted. Knew I wanted. But after hearing it out loud, wasn’t so sure about. 

It would be so easy. 

So easy, because I knew you’d let me, and that's what hurt the most. 

I was right. 

 

Later that day, you come back to my room, a skip in your step, and even though I can’t see you I know you’re hopeful, because this is the first time I’ve asked for you since i’ve been here and I know you so damn well that I know you allowed your heart to feel just an inkling of hope that maybe I finally want to talk to you. 

And I was right, but I was also wrong, because this, this right here is what hurts the most. 

The knife sits against your neck, and I feel a surge of confidence as I feel your smooth skin underneath it. 

At first I look anywhere but your eyes, because I didn’t want to know how you were possibly looking at me right now, but then I lose that battle, and my ocean blue meet your forest green, and I _was right._

Acceptance. Acceptance is what's in your eyes. You have completely accepted that if I were to wish it, you will die, right here, right now. You accept that you will not fight back, you will not call your guards into the room, you will only stand here and let me decide your fate. 

And as much as I wish I was strong enough to not care about you, I guess you were right too because love is weakness and I don’t have the strength to slit your throat with this knife. 

I turn away, dropping my weapon as well as my head, concealing the tears threatening to spill from my eyes, and you stand behind me with worry and _love_ etched into your own, and then you whisper words I wasn’t expecting to hear and that makes everything hurt more. 

_“I never meant to turn you into this.”_

It's so honest, and soft, that I actually believe you, and before you slip away, clearly not expecting me to want you near me any longer, I speak up for the first time since you’ve entered and I ask you to wait, and that's all it takes you. 

 

Its when I’m staring at the ground, head bowed, as you stand above me, that I think maybe you really do care. 

Its when you stare up into my eyes, with you own knees planted to the ground, as I stand above you, that I know you care. 

 

After that, I don’t know where we stand, but I know you’re trying, and I know I want to try too, but I’m still terrified of getting hurt again, and you’re still hesitant yourself. 

I still have nightmares, and sometimes you show up in them telling me with a hardened stare that my people weren’t part of the deal, and I wake up in a cold sweat, remembering why I hate you. 

I have bags under my eyes, and red rimmed eyes, but you don’t say anything as I enter the throne room. 

Because your Heda here. Heda has a duty to her people, and her capital, and her coalition. Lexa may have sworn her fealty but Heda still has a responsibility. 

So we just pretend I’m not exhausted, and you aren’t concerned, and It’s honestly better this way. Maybe. 

 

My tired eyes widen and for the moment I’m more awake than I’ve ever been as I hear your raspy trigedasleng claim that no one fights for you. 

I know I have no right, but if you think I’m losing you again, you are dead wrong. 

You tell me that if that is to be your fate, I must accept that, and I tell you like hell I do. 

 

I once again put my own life at risk at the expense of others, and maybe I’m starting to realize the value of my own life is not at the top of my priority list, in fact it's far from the top, and maybe I should be more concerned about that, but I guess I’ll deal with that little tidbit later, because right now I’m going to kill the damn Ice Queen and save your life because that is what I do, and you can’t stop me. 

 

I fail. 

But my failure reveals something quite useful, however also terrifying, because if this was Nia’s plan all along then how the hell can I just sit there and watch you fall straight into her trap?

 

We argue, you leave, and I go back to wishing I could stop giving a damn. But I do, and I hate myself for it, but I’m tired, and I _care_ about you. 

So I wash my face, breathe for a little while trying to remind myself how to do that properly and then I carry myself outside, to watch you probably die. 

 

You don’t die. 

You almost do, and I wish you weren’t such a show off, but you don’t die. 

Breathing comes easy after that. 

 

Later, when your night has finally settled, and my heart has settled too, you come to me and I let you in for the first time without a fight, and offer to change the dressing on your hand. 

I ask you something, something that holds a different meaning than what I want you to know. With a sad, knowing smile, you give me the exact answer I was looking for. 

We say goodnight, and you leave, and that's that. 

I sleep that night, and when I wake, the faint wispy vision of cloudy, blood stained, burned bodies floating through my head is still there, but somehow I slept through the nightmares this time. And for the first time in a long time, I have no memory of seeing you in them. 

 

We travel to Arcadia together, and I'm uneasy the whole way there. 

You notice, because, of course you do, and try to reassure me. I appreciate your words, and even give you a smile in return, because maybe it really was that simple, and maybe you’re right, but at the same time I know this trip isn’t going to be smooth sailing. 

And of course it wasn’t.

300 of your soldiers, slaughtered by 10 of mine, and suddenly we’re going 100 steps backwards. 

You’re angry, you have every right to be, I am too, I just hope you aren’t at me, but as you declare war on my people with not a single ounce of forgiveness in your voice, I’m not to sure about that. 

I beg you to let me fix this, because that's what I do, but you don’t let me. 

Part of me is furious for it, because who the hell said you were in charge of me anyway, but part of me is relieved, because you can’t let me go again, can you? 

 

Octavia ends up coming, and she promises to get me behind those walls. You’re hesitant, I can see it in your face, you don’t want to let me go, but you know you have to. 

Before I go, you pull me aside and tell to be safe, tell me to return to _you._ Without thinking, I promise I will. 

 

I see Bellamy, and he makes me cry. 

He reminds of me of who I am, and what i’ve done, and what that makes me. 

And as I’m handcuffed to that table, suddenly all I want is for you to be by my side because you haven’t ever once criticized me or my actions. You’ve only ever accepted me, and trusted me, and I don’t know if I deserve that, but I do know I appreciate it. 

I get away, and am relieved to return to you. 

 

I convince you of my new plan, and to be quite honest I don’t know how the hell I did it. 

It was a long shot, and I knew that from the start. To ask you to change your entire peoples way was no small request, and although I knew you cared about me, I also knew you were Heda first, and you would always be Heda first, and this might be one request that Heda just can’t fulfill. 

But you do. You do. 

You change your entire law, for me. 

I'm shocked, and I’m grateful, and suddenly I’m seeing you, in a tent similar to this one, only it's bright outside, and Indra isn’t here interjecting to our every word, and you’re looking at me like I mean something to you, and I tell you life should be about more than just surviving, and you agree by kissing me.

And in this moment, I want to be back there, only this time I won’t pull away. This time, I’m ready. 

 

It's days after, you’ve fallen asleep on the couch, your book discarded on the floor. You look peaceful, and I feel inspired. 

I sketch you, committing every line, every detail to memory. 

I haven’t drawn in months, but looking at you it comes to me so easily. 

When you wake up, with a nightmare of you own, I immediately understand. Mine have been getting better, but that doesn’t mean they still don’t haunt me. I guess yours haunt you too. 

_“It’s okay, you’re okay.”_

As soon as those words leave my lips I know they are much to similar to a situation just like this one. Back during a time when life made just a little bit more sense than it does now. Or maybe it didn't. Maybe life has never made sense.

You open up, and I’m glad because you don’t do that often. 

When you’re finished, you stand, collecting your book with you, but then something catches your eye and I start stuttering like an idiot because… because…well… _”It’s not finished yet.”_

I see something like admiration in your eyes and I almost think you're about to say something that will mean a lot to me, but a knock on the door stops you. 

 

Titus enters, a box following, and suddenly the bubble of peace we’ve found ourselves in pops. 

We have responsibilities, and people with responsibilities don’t get the luxury of peace very often. 

 

I’m thrown to the floor before I even realize it, my head suddenly hurts, and everything is bad again. So so bad. 

Carl Emerson. The mountain. 382 lives. 

You try to comfort me, and I push you away. 

382 lives. 

_Those deaths are on you too._

 

I want to kill him. 

I know i’m a hypocrite, okay? 

I know. 

But I want him dead. 

I want him death, because maybe his death would bring me sleep. Maybe his death will give me quiet. Maybe it’ll give me peace. 

For over 3 months, all i’ve seen is the mountain, and Bellamy’s hand over mine, as we pull that lever and take the lives of hundreds of innocents. I see Jasper’s tear stained face as a burned Maya lays in his arms. 

I see children, and mothers, and fathers, and elderly, burned through their skin, eyes wide open, cold hands gripping onto those of their loves one, now hanging loosely beside them. 

Because of me. 

And maybe killing the last one, will finally allow me to forget. 

 

You don’t approve. 

How could you? 

_“So blood must not have blood, only applies when it is my people who bleed?"_

 

I don’t go through with it. 

Because how could I?

_“I don’t know if your death would bring me peace, or not. I just know I don’t deserve it.”_

 

I’ve been waiting for this day for a while now. 

You have too. 

The day where lines were finally drawn. 

We both knew I couldn’t stay here forever, and we can’t just keep pretending that nothing is happening between us, but how are we supposed to do that when I’m gone? 

You ask me stay. 

I wish I could say yes.

But have I mentioned responsibilities? 

 

I came to say goodbye, but I kiss you instead. 

Kissing you is a lot better than any words I could’ve said anyway. 

Its overwhelming, to say the least. 

You’re crying. Im crying. And I would laugh at how lame we are, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m kissing you, and its the best damn thing i’ve done in 3 months. 

 

We have a lot of responsibilities. To our people, to ourselves. 

This, whatever it is, will never be what we want it to be. 

I can never have you completely, because there will always be a piece of you that is strictly Heda, and that piece believes love is weakness, and must live with that mantra being chanted over and over again in its head in order to protect itself. 

You can never have me completely, because I will always put my people first, I will always be selfless, and put the lives of my loved ones above mine, and there is nothing you can do to make me change that part of myself.

Although we are Clarke and Lexa, we can never be Clarke _and Lexa._ Not completely. 

 

So we just hold each other tonight, with the promise of maybe someday lingering in our thoughts. 

Maybe someday.

**Author's Note:**

> http://mmaybe-tomorroww.tumblr.com
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr?


End file.
